(so I decided this was gonna be set when Hela was around ten or eleven because I need bby!Hela)
She must have been dreaming, because there had never been a moment in her life when the Immortan had taken any interest in her. He allowed her and her mother to stay up top, but he showed no favoritism towards either. Yet now he had shown up and ordered her to accompany him on a hunt. What they were hunting and why, he refused to tell her. She would have to go with him to find out, whether she wanted to go or not.
Hela ran to keep up with her sire as they journeyed through the caverns, the preteen unused to being outside the vault. She caught sight of Rictus as they neared the Gigahorse, sidling close to the Immortan for fear that her brother might accidentally crush her under his boot. But the fear dissipated as quickly as it had come, for she was lifted into the machine and it seemed moments later they were on the burning plains of the wasteland.
It was her first time in a vehicle, and she hardly cared that it was hot and the wind whipped sand in her eyes if she leaned too far out of the window. This was the closest the girl would ever get to flying, and she loved every second of it.
Then they came upon the prey they were hunting, a battered car decorated in the spikes that she recognized as the Buzzards. Joe was leading the hunt with two other vehicles, an envoy each from the Bullet Farm and Gas Town. Engines roared furiously as the trio maneuvered to trap the car between them, the sound deafening to her ears, which were protected only by her hands covering them. The Immortan gave a disappointed huff at the sight, but the Buzzard surprised them all as it began to ram into the Gigahorse, trying to spike the tires to send it careening into a sand bank. He took the wheel in both hands, dropping his weapon back into his lap to regain control of his vehicle as it began to quake from the force.
But then there was a quick movement from the corner of his eye, and the pistol was no longer in his lap. Instead, there was a gunshot, crisp and clear, followed by the shattering of the Buzzard vehicle’s windshield. Scarlet painted the cracked glass, the car suddenly losing control and crashing as its driver was ejected from the window, the body rolling in the sand before falling limp. The hunting party stopped immediately to survey the wreckage, but Joe turned to see his daughter, the child he wished had died in place of the sons he’d lost.
In her small hands, still smoking from the shot, was his pistol.